Cruzin' Through
by teddicky
Summary: Ted Cruz finally has some alone time to enjoy a session of self pleasure.


Teddy boy found himself alone in his office.

He's brutally aware of the ticking of the clock hanging behind his desk.

His breathing becomes heavy and labored. He can't stop himself anymore, he has to give into this desire.

With a shaking hand, he reaches for the bottom drawer of his desk. There lay the toilet paper roll. Thick and curvaceous, perfectly cylindrical. The pure and white soft, soft paper was so absolutely irresistible.

He indulged. He carefully, gently, took the roll out of it's desk drawer home. His hands dripped sweat that poured onto the dear sweet roll.

Carefully, he unbuttoned his pants. He reached for the key that hung around his neck. He had to. He had to unlock the cage that entrapped his throbbing member. He slipped the key into the little lock, releasing himself into the world. He felt a rush of freedom, a rush of happiness. More than he had felt in years. Soon it was followed by fear, fear that made him sweat even more. The corners of his mouth pulled downwards as he pulled down his pants, and removed his beautiful, embellished chastity belt. He rubbed his special, greasy lotion all over his hairy crotch, gently massaging his heaving, sweaty ball sack. He felt the air kiss the head of his penis.

His beady eyes returned to the gorgeous roll that was now ever so moist from his salty, oily excretion.

In a rush of adrenaline, he jammed the head of his penis into the roll. A wave of pleasure enveloped his body. His penis was fully covered by the roll, 2 inches deep. The friction of the cardboard against his fat dick edged him closer and closer to coming.

But soon the paper became to dry. Angry and frustrated he began to sob. Alas! He cried.

Something caught his eye. A small jar of honey he had used for his tea earlier that day was still on his desk. He grabbed it, lathering it onto the paper of the roll and his oily pink penis. It was thick and sticky, just how he liked it. He was getting sweatier and sweatier. The white of his shirt was almost translucent, sticky to his hairless chest. He slid around in the chair as he moved the sticky papery mess up and down, up and down, up and down, in and out, up and down. Side to side. All over. "Allllll over." He whispered to himself, to his father. The paper began to become fully saturated with his salty sweat. Soon, it was completely drenched. His most prized sexual partner began to fall apart in his hands. Anger, sadness, hopelessness swirled into his body, yet his dick just got harder.

Soon all that was left of the once beautiful roll was a sloppy mess of brownish yellow goo. He carefully scooped up the goo. His hands are perfect for scooping. Delicately, he laid it down onto his desk.

He began to peel off his sopping wet garments. Carefully, slowly, he let his clothes fall to the ground. He was already barefoot. He sat in his slippery leather chair. He pressed a button under his desk. The hum of a motor could be faintly heard as a mirror lowered. He stared at himself. Sweaty. Pink. Brown. Hairless. His skin covered in little red dots marking where he had meticulously plucked every single body hair. Every single body hair, of course, apart from the thick over grown yet patchy mass of follicles that covered the area around his small, small penis. Proud, he nodded at himself, admiring his soft, meaty nipples. Never had he been so turned on, so sad, yet so turned on. He made eye contact with himself in the mirror, and reached down, he could not let his gaze falter from his deep brown eyes. He grasped a thick tube that was coiled under his desk. The nozzle was fist sized and perfect for spraying liquids. He used the foot petal under his desk to turn it on. Almost instantly cottage cheese sprayed out of the nozzle.

"AHHHH YESSSSSSS" He cried in between animalistic grunts and screeches. Soon he was covered in sweaty, creamy, chunky, spoiled, fermenting cottage cheese. The substance mixed with his sweat, filling every nook and cranny of his body and began to pool around his desk. He was so close to coming. So close. He forced the nozzle down onto his cock. The sheer force of the spraying cottage cheese was enough to send him over the edge into orgasm. Grunting and shaking, he collapsed. The cottage cheese sputtered to a halt. He crumpled onto the floor in a puddle of his own sweat, mixing with the gallons of putrid cottage cheese. Never had he felt more alive. The goop slid off his desk and plopped onto his slippery back. Sending surges of pleasure through his weak body. No woman could every do this to him. No woman could make him feel this way. He glanced up at the oil painting of his family. His wife, painted there in perfect likeness. His eyes began to sting as the liquid slipped over his lids. He kept his eyes open for as long as he could, enjoying the burn. He slowly fell asleep.

All that night he had dreams of his birth. The bright white light, the doctor's latex hands reaching, pulling him out of somewhere. Somewhere warm and safe. Somewhere moist. He felt the place's opening pulse around his head as the doctor's hands pulling him out and into the world. "What was this place?" his inner voice pleaded. "Where did I come from? Where do babies come from? Am I just a giant baby?"

He woke up gently. He always woke up peacefully when he allowed himself to sleep face down in the wonderful mix of rotten cottage cheese and sweat. The mixture had dried, so it was easy for Ted to peel it off himself and then cover the copious amounts on the floor with a number of thick rugs. He felt a little dirty. A little dirty Ted. He giggled audibly at this thought, luckily it was too early for anyone to be working yet. He sprayed his entire body with aerosol baking soda and slipped into a fresh suit. He combed his hair back, proud of the way all the natural oils flicked off the end of his comb. It was time for another day.


End file.
